He moved to sit beside me on the couch; the cushions dipping slightly under his weight. “I wasn’t sure if you still like to eat that kind of stuff, so I got a salad in there too, in case.”
The sandwich paused on the way to my mouth. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
He scratched the side of his cheek.“We don’t really know each other anymore. For all I know, you only eat kale and drink green smoothies.”
My eyes narrowed. He was hinting at something; I wish I could figure out what.
“I can assure you that I will pick meat and carbs over kale and a smoothie any day. Just don’t ask me to cook anything.”
A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. It was a small one, but it was genuine, and it felt like a tiny victory.
“Good to know that some things about you haven’t changed.”
We ate the rest of our meal in silence. It wasn’t comfortable, but it wasn’t awkward either. It was neutral, like we were bothwrapped up in thoughts and not sure how to act around each other.
“Can I ask you something?” I asked as we gathered the empty containers and brought them to the trash.
“Uh, yeah,” he replied, bending over to shut the disposal off.
“What did you mean when you said, ‘you were glad some things about me haven’t changed’?”
He hesitated for a moment before looking out the window. “It was nothing.”
“It was obviously something,” I said, not accepting that answer.
“We were kids back then, and it’s not like we kept in touch over the years. I have no idea who you are today.”
“I’m the same girl I was back then, just a little older and a lot wiser.”
He shoved his hands into the front pockets of his worn jeans. “Maybe, but you look different now, too.”
I cocked my head to the side, trying to determine if he meant it as a compliment or a dig. “Don’t we all change over time?”
“I guess.” He rubbed the back of his neck like he used to do when he was irritated. “But I never left to go pursue my dreams like you did. I stayed here, in the same town I was raised in. Took over the family business and still hang out with the same group of friends since I was ten. Not much about me has changed since you left. I’m not so sure you can say the same.”
I crossed my arms. “Of course, I changed. I had to. But I’m still me in the ways that matter.”
He folded the towel and set it beside the sink. We both stood there facing each other. “Did you ever think about me?”
Slowly, I was starting to understand where some of his hesitation was coming from. “Yes,” I said, stopping myself from saying more. I was tempted to tell him that I missed him, and wondered every day what it would have been like if I had stayed.
His hands flexed at his sides. “And yet, you still left.”
I forced myself to hold his gaze, even if it hurt. “I didn’t know what else to do.”
He scoffed. “That’s bullshit. You had a choice, and you chose him.”
I shook my head. “I didn’t choose him. Everyone had expectations of who I should be. I was young and naive, so I chose the path that was laid out for me.”
If he only knew the whole truth.
His eyes were hard. “We all have expectations in life. Did you think you were the only one?”
“Of course not, but you don’t understand the pressure that was put on me.”
Or the extremes I would go to in order to protect you.
He grabbed a sponge, dropped it in the soapy water, and rested his hip against the counter. “You can rationalize it any way you like to soothe yourself. It won’t change what happened to either one of us, will it?”